The Reason Shawn Can Shoot
by McCountryGirl
Summary: Why is Shawn Spencer such a good shot? Crack shot? Nope. So why? And what to the OSP and the MCRT have to do with it? Established Shules, Densi and Neric. Mentions of McAbby, Tiva, past Jibbs and a mystery pairing. T for bad words. First psych-fic.


**A/N: My first Psych-fic! I got the idea while watching Shawn shoot. I thought 'How is he such a good shot? C'mon, even crack-shots aren't that good!' and thus, this was born!**

* * *

**The Reason Shawn Can Shoot**

"Hey Shawn, are you any good of a shot?" Detective Juliet O'Hara asked her boyfriend Shawn Spencer.

"If you ask me, Chief Vick told me I shoot better than most of the cops in the department. Ask Chief Vick, she'll deny it." Shawn replied.

"Prove it." She challenged. Shawn took her Berretta from her, put on his safety glasses and earplugs and took aim at the paper-person target. He shot off five rounds. Each round hit the center of the target. He took one extra shot and hit his forehead. Juliet looked shocked.

"How the hell did you learn to shoot like that? Even Carlton misses a few shots!" Juliet exclaimed.

"Crack-shot." He explained simply. If only she knew the real reason he knew how to shoot. Man, would she be shocked. 'Ya, Jules, I'm not a goofy psychic. I'm a Navy Cop from D.C. sent here to investigate you and Lassie to get you to join us.' Now how would that sound? Strange and delusional. That's how. She had re-holstered her gun and slipped her arm around his waist when his phone rang. The caller ID said gunknown. The G was so he knew who was calling.

"Jules, I really have to take this." He urged. She obliged and un-holstered her gun and continued to shoot.

"Director, really? You couldn't have picked a worse time?" he whined.

"I'm sorry, Agent Spencer, you are greatly needed by the Office of Special Projects division in Los Angeles. Your _particular_ skill set is needed for a case." The man on the other end replied.

"Fine, Vance. Only for Hetty." He caved.

"Great. I will text you the address. Go alone. Don't bring Mr. Guster or the detectives." Vance ordered. He hung up and immediately texted Shawn the location of the Mission.

"Jules that was my dad. He needs my help cleaning out the attic. I'll call you later?" he told Juliet.

"Alright, just don't get hurt." She called after him. Its times like these he loves his motorcycle. First, he had to head to his dad's house to pick up his service weapon, badge and ID, and then he had to get to the Mission before Hetty got pissed. Lord knows he had very little time to do so before she got reeeeally angry. Arriving at his dad's place, he told him about the Director's calls, asked his dad to find his service weapon and badge and ID, and told him if Juliet calls, he's in the attic cleaning. He took off for LA as fast as possible. He arrived at the Mission in record time. He saw an old, condemned looking building, but he knew it was just a guise. The Office of Special Projects wouldn't run out of a condemned building. They were smarter than that. Especially Hetty. He walked in the door, his suspicions were confirmed. The room had a Mexican-hotel vibe.

"Ah, Mr. Spencer, we've been waiting for you!" replied a short, older woman in a red suit.

"I would have been her sooner, but the highway was no place for my bike today." Shawn complained.

"No excuse. Now let me introduce you to my team." The woman replied, herding him up a set of stairs like a goat.

"Special Agents Kensi Blye, Sam Hanna and G. Callen, LAPD liaison detective Marty Deeks, Technical Operator Eric Beale and Intelligence Analyst Nell Jones, meet Senior Field Agent Special Agent Shawn Spencer. He works for the DC branch under the MCRT." Hetty announced while walking in to a dark room with computers. There was a gorgeous brunette holding hands with a shaggy haired blonde, obviously a surfer, a black man with absolutely no hair, a pointy head and crossed arms, a man in his early-forties with odd coloured hair in a very fine buzz cut and a petite red-head cutie holding hands with a super tall blonde guy with glasses, also a surfer. And then there was him and Hetty. Each agent mumbled a 'hello' and nodded.

"He will be assisting us with the O'Hara case. Eric, briefing." Hetty continued.

"If I may. O'Hara? As in Frank O'Hara?" Shawn asked.

"Yes. Frank O'Hara is a known con-man originally from Florida. His recent mark was a very wealthy Marine three-star major. Conned millions. We don't know much about O'Hara." Eric briefed.

"I can add a few things to his description. Mid-to-late fifties, receding hair line, wrinkles galore, swiped a two-million dollar penny from a Santa Barbara coin expo, he showed up at SBPD a while ago, and, oh yeah, I'm dating his daughter, Juliet Marie O'Hara." Shawn interjected.

"He showed up at SBPD? Why?" Hetty inquired.

"It was Juliet's 30th birthday and he wanted to make things better. He ended up stealing a valuable penny and some expensive scotch from a rich guy's house." Shawn explained.

"So, he stole a priceless penny?" Kensi blurted.

"Indeed he did, tall, dark and sexy, and tried to frame a suspect in the case we were working about thieves." Shawn added.

"Furthermore, Frank O'Hara is a dangerous man. He is capable of just about any con on the planet. He has been around in the conning business for 30 some years and has never been caught. He may not carry a weapon, but he is highly dangerous." Shawn concluded.

"Special Agent Spencer, do you think you could describe Mr. O'Hara, we have only gotten partial witness descriptions." Sam asked.

"Please, call me Shawn, even though Hetty calls me Mr. Spencer, and I can do better than that. Back at SBPD, I sometimes draw composite sketches of my co-workers. I did a mean Lassie." Shawn answered. Sam handed him a sketch pad and a pencil and Shawn got to drawing.

"Is this Lassie guy the SBPD detective Gibbs wants for the MCRT?" Callen asked.

"Yes, and his partner, Detective Juliet O'Hara. He believes they are quiet capable investigators, and would make wonderful additions to the MCRT." Hetty acknowledged.

"Juliet O'Hara? Frank's daughter? Shawn's girlfriend?" Deeks commented. Hetty nodded. Kensi slapped him.

"Ow Fern, I'm hurt, what was that for?" he pouted.

"For thinking about another man's girlfriend out loud, in front of your girlfriend." Kensi snarled. Deeks gave his pouty face, but Kensi just glared. Shawn walked back to the group with a stunningly detailed drawing of Frank O'Hara.

"Wow. You're almost as good as Miss Todd, if not better." Hetty complimented.

"Yeah, Kate was an amazing artist, wasn't she?" Shawn recollected. Hetty gave him a smile.

"Anyway, where was the latest mark's house?" Shawn asked, avoiding the subject of his deceased colleague, Caitlin Todd.

"Santa Barbara." Nell muttered.

"Really? I drove all the way out here on my bike to go back to Santa Barbara? Can one of you guys drive? My bike's out of gas!" Shawn complained. Hetty, Callen and Sam smiled.

"I'll drive!" Deeks announced.

"Oh hell no. I hear you drive like my Israeli co-worker. Kensi can drive." Shawn interrupted. This time, Eric and Nell laughed. Kensi took the keys from Deeks and they left Ops and headed for Kensi's car.

* * *

"So, do you have a picture of the Juliet?" Deeks probed. Kensi slapped him again.

"Excuse my partner; he's a skirt-chaser."

"Just like my partner Tony. God, he's bad." Shawn muttered.

"Anyway, the mark is 73 year old Tobias Martell. Three-star major. US Marines. Married, but wife deceased. Beatrice Martell. Daughter, Elizabeth Martell, 50 years old, nursing home in Ohio. Son, Uriah Martell, 53 years old, married Maria Martell, two children, 30 year old Joseph and 28 year old Elizabeth. All the men were Marines. Tobias was conned of two grand by O'Hara, his son wasn't happy. After his son confronted him, Martell died of a heart attack. Stress induced. Elizabeth and Uriah are at the house now. It's right on the water. There's this cool red and white house down the street that the owner has lived in for over 30 years." Deeks briefed.

"Ah crap. Just great. Our dead guy lives mere doors down from the house I grew up in, which my father still lives in!" Shawn yelled. "And something else, I told my girlfriend I was cleaning my dad's attic after Vance called me. She's probably checking now, but if she sees me up the street with you guys, she'll get suspicious and question. Jules doesn't take lying too well because of Frank." Shawn angrily mused.

"Dude, you are up the creek without a paddle. You better hope she's gone when we get there." Deeks added. The rest of the drive to Santa Barbara was silent. When they arrived at the house, Juliet wasn't there.

"Deeks, Kensi, I'll be right back, I got to go check on my dad." Shawn called. They nodded. Shawn walked down the street to Henry's house. He knocked on the door, even though it felt very odd. After a few seconds, Henry opened the door.

"Shawn, what are you doing back in Santa Barbara?"

"The case I'm working has me at a house five doors down, Tobias Martell?"

"I know Toby, played poker with him. Nice man."

"Anyway, cohorts are waiting, got to go, and if Jules asks, I'm still in the attic."

* * *

Shawn made his way down the street and entered the house. It reminded him of his dad's house. Older décor, hardwood floors, really tall lamps and a huge kitchen. Kensi and Deeks were in the livingroom talking to what Shawn presumed to be the children.

"So, Mr. Martell, Uriah! Can you tell us anything that you can remember about the man you conned your dad?" Deeks asked.

"No. Just that he was older, greying." Uriah Martell replied.

"Sorry, we haven't formally met, Special Agent Shawn Spencer, lead psychic for NCIS, and you are?"

"Uriah Martell. This is my sister Beatrice. Did you say Spencer? Father used to play poker with a Henry Spencer."

"My father. Anyway, did anything seem odd about your father before his heart attack?"

"Jumpy, skittish, scared, paranoid. Wasn't himself. Seemed weird."

"Did anything in particular set him off?" Kensi asked.

"If you talked about Mother or P.I.s or the Marines."

"Sidebar." Shawn declared.

"I know what con Frank was using. He convinced Tobias that Beatrice wasn't dead and he was a P.I. who would look for her, but really, he was spending the money on something." Shawn concluded. Shawn glanced over to Uriah. He immediately noticed a lipstick stain on his collar and that his shirt was unkempt and wrinkly. He winked at Kensi and Deeks, and went into 'deveining' mode.

"Oh. Oh. OH! I'm getting something! Uriah, you have a mistress!"

"What-! How did you possibly know that?"

"I'm a psychic!"

* * *

"Ah crap. Local PD." Deeks called. Shawn ran to the front room and saw the car. 'Crap. Lassie's car.'

"Guys, beware, Head Detective Carlton Lassiter, SBPD, and his partner, Detective Juliet O'Hara." Shawn warned. He didn't bother trying to hide. The three agents accumulated on the porch and waited for the detectives. Shawn stood a little behind Kensi

"Detectives Carlton Lassiter, Juliet O'Hara SBPD. Who are you two?" Lassie barked. Shawn stepped out from behind Kensi and pulled his badge.

"Special Agents Martin Deeks, Kensi Blye and Shawn Spencer, NCIS." Shawn stated.

"Spencer, what the hell? NCIS? What the hell is that?" Lassie yelled.

"Naval Criminal Investigative Services." The three stated in unison.

"Shawn. A word." Juliet asked. Shawn broke away from the porch where the other three talked about the case, and the agents left out the con part.

"What the hell Shawn? You're a cop?" Juliet whisper-yelled.

"Navy cop. And yes. I was hired in D.C. in 2002 after graduating FLETC. I'm here on a case, but I work in D.C. These two work in LA." Shawn confessed. "But I can't tell you my case."

"I don't care about that. I just want you to look me in the eyes and say you didn't like lying to me, and you're sorry."

"Juliet Marie O'Hara, I am deeply sorry for lying to you all these years, but I had to. There is one thing I know I can't, nor anyone else, can lie about, is true love. And Juliet, I love you."

"Shawn! I love you too!" she squealed. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his nose. Deciding their sidebar was over, they joined their teams on the patio.

* * *

"Alright, what do you know Lassie?"

"That Martell was a Marine, which makes this case NCIS jurisdiction, but these two partners of yours said we could still help, but we aren't allowed to see NCIS, so we have to work out of SBPD. I also know that Martell was having money troubles and died of a heart attack caused by stress. What I don't know is why a veteran Marine with lots of money was A) having money troubles and B) stupid enough to move in down the street from Spencer's dad." Lassie filled Juliet in. She nodded.

"There is one question I can answer. The money troubles question. Tobias Martell was being conned. The con was his wife Beatrice isn't dead and the con-man was a P.I. who could find her." Shawn then withdrew his doodle from his pocket and showed Jules and Lassie.

"Frank?"

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**A/N: I intended to make this a one-shot, but now it will be a multi-chap because I don't like super long one-shots that just go on and on.**

**I hope you liked and I will update ASAP. **


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